Culture, Lithium and the Dead: Inside Buhera’s Burial Dispute at Sabi Star Mine

A burial dispute at Buhera’s Sabi Star lithium mine has sparked national debate over culture, dignity and mining development (image source)

When controversy erupted over the reburial of five children and 24 adults at Buhera’s Sabi Star lithium mine, a quiet rural community was thrust into the centre of a national—and increasingly global—debate about culture, dignity and development. At the heart of the storm is Max Mind Investments, owners of Sabi Star, a lithium project commissioned by President Emmerson Mnangagwa in 2023 and now a key player in Zimbabwe’s push into the global green-energy supply chain. Beneath the promise of lithium riches, however, lay ancestral graves directly in the path of mining expansion.

Human rights activist Farai Maguwu ignited public outrage when he alleged on X (formerly Twitter) that graves had been desecrated using excavators. “These were laid to rest with love and care in Buhera by hundreds of people, but exhumed by the Chinese using excavators and dumped here,” Maguwu wrote, claiming more than 10 000 graves had been disturbed nationwide. On the ground in Mkwasi and surrounding villages, however, families and traditional leaders present a markedly different account—one rooted in custom, consultation and consent. “All these graves are our relatives. We are happy with how the mine handled the reburials,” said Greater Gombahari, whose family members were among those relocated. “They bought new coffins and blankets. Nyaradzo did it well.”

For the Mubaiwa family, the process was equally straightforward. “My grandfather, my father and my uncles were all reburied here. We were compensated. For us, everything was done properly,” said Oria Mubaiwa. Much of the controversy has centred on reports that five children were buried using plastic rather than coffins, a practice critics labelled undignified. Village leaders insist, however, that this followed Shona cultural norms rather than corporate negligence. “Minor children who had not developed teeth cannot be buried in coffins,” explained Village Head Noah Manhidza. “Apart from the five children, everyone else was buried in coffins.”

Relatives confirmed that the decision came from the community itself. “It’s us, the villagers, who suggested to the mine that we could use plastic to put the remains together,” said Clopas Manzeke, whose relatives were among the children. “We could have used clay pots. That was our mistake as a community. The mine consulted us.” Traditional leaders were unequivocal. Chief Nyashanu dismissed the controversy as opportunistic. “No one objected. People were given options. These stories coming now are manufactured out of greed,” he said. “This is a closed chapter.” District authorities echoed that view. “This process was consultative and guided by traditional leaders,” said Buhera District Development Coordinator Freeman Maviza. “Families identified the graves themselves. Compensation was given.”

Beyond the burials, Sabi Star has invested heavily in community development. The mine employs about 450 full-time workers, 85% of them locals, drilled 26 boreholes, installed solar-powered water systems and distributed 30 000 tonnes of maize during last year’s drought. Projected as a US$1 billion operation, Sabi Star aligns with government policy on value addition, with plans to process lithium locally for global battery markets.

Yet the dispute exposes a deeper tension confronting Zimbabwe’s mining sector: how to balance ancestral customs with international human-rights expectations, particularly as lithium projects draw global scrutiny. In Buhera, elders insist the matter is spiritually settled. Nationally, however, the episode raises enduring questions about culture, development and whose standards ultimately define dignity. For now, Buhera’s families maintain they did right by their ancestors—even as the world continues to debate it.